Friday, January 13, 2012

Its been a little over a year, and im still recovering. Something like that takes a part of you, and never gives it back. My father was only in his 40's. He died in my arms. You dont get over something like that.

My father battled Melanoma till he could no longer fight. I watched him change before my eyes. Im haunted.

I miss him so damn much.

Im angry.

Im sad.

Im numb.

Somedays I forget....

I take that back. I never forget.

But there are moments...

Moments where I breath.

Moments where I smile.

Moments that feel wrong.

I wonder when I will be me again.

My father passing, wasnt just a death. It has shaped my entire life. People no longer know how to talk to me. My friends have moved on, and here I am, still in that room in December, with my dad.

Ive evolved into a creature who meerly survives. If I smile just right, people dont ask questions. If I say no enough, people just stop asking. If I dont answer my phone, people stop calling.

That has been my life for over a year. I didnt just loose my Dad. I lost a bit of me that Im affraid to get back. Affraid I wont get back. I built a life around Cancer. For the last 3 years, I built a life of moving on. When others were out having fun, I was at my Fathers, holding his hand, listening to him yell in pain, cleaning his home, running his errands, doing anything to make his life easier.

I felt so DAMN guilty that I wasnt there everyday for him. I watched him be the man he didnt want to be. The grandpa who was short tempered, the independent man who now needed help frome everyone. Cancer stripped so much from him. It stripped so much from me too.

How do I get me back? When you've pushed everyone so far, how do you get them back?

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Everything was wondrous to you. The world just one big play thing to discover. So innocent.

To see you react to the way the sand from the Atlantic tasted as you waited in a tide pool, a remnant of the deep ocean that earlier collided on the rocks further up the embankment, the same ocean I forbid you to play in because it was currently teaming with jelly fish that had also been strewn all along the white sandy beach.

How you played in that tide pool, like it was all yours for the taking. No judgment, just delight.

A plastic purple shovel in your tiny fist. Wet and wild blond curls swaying in the breeze. Tiny granules of sand embedded on your chubby little legs and arms. You were going to conquer the world.

Cautiously you looked to make sure no one was watching, I was. Threw the corner of my eye, I was pretending I didn't notice. When small wonders had you truly amazed you wanted to experience them yourself before letting the world know what you thought. You would shy away if you thought you were being watched. Weary in case I said no.

Looking first and satisfied you were alone to your own deeds, you picked up that sugary sand, white as flour, and stuck it right in your mouth. I had to stifle my laughs, when I saw the expression on your face.

Such wonders bring my mind back to a child's. Watching you made me think to myself those same childish things. Where the moon is made of cheese and the white sandy beaches in Florida are really made of sugar or salt. I was slightly envious that my own inner voice told me NO to tasting it for myself.

For a mere moment I pretended not to see you dip your tiny pink tongue into the palm of your hand to taste the salty sand. I lived threw your expierence as I watched your face turn to acknowledgment when you realised it certianly did not taste like you expected.

I held that laugh, though itcwas hard to contain, and I did as a good parent would do. I told you no, and to get it out of your mouth all with a warm smile of course.

Later and even now thinking back on it, I eventually giggled it off. Its moments like these that make me realise the world has so much to offer and adventures everywhere, even if they are as small as having a taste. Moments with your wild blonde curls and bright blue swimsuit, taking on the world, armored with nothing more then a purple plastic shovel.

Ayva is about to turn 7. This scares me. My little girl is growing so fast and Im at a loss to think that the years keep flying, and before I know it, she will be driving, graduating, then leaving. Dont get me wrong... I want her to grow into the beautiful woman she will be someday, I just dont like the idea that someday she will move and start her own life.

Maybe its hard to think this way, because I dont feel like my life started till I concieved her. The wild adventure we have been on together, I know I wouldnt have been able to handle with out my precious baby girl. Shes been my rock and my foundation. Shes been the kick in my arse when I needed one, and now shes going to turn 7.

Maybe I should start somewhere else with this blog. Start with the reasons for even contemplating why I even started one. Ive always wanted to write down Ayvas begginings for her. Show her how for we came, so that in the future when life gets hard, she can look back and see what we have accomplished, see that even in the deepest hole, we climbed out. I want to be honest with her about her first few years of life, so she can see that ANYTHING is possible, and that to every rain storm, theres a rainbow lurking somewhere.

Pregnant at 19 was NO walk in the park... but it was the best un-smartest thing I could have done. I was a wild child, with no grip on real life, and Ayva nailed me with a hard reality when I found out my actions have consequences, hence becoming pregnant with her.

I want to share the real story. How I met her father and became a war bride in a matter of a month. Share how we someday moved out of that homeless shelter and learned to rely on ourselves. Share how I met your Handsome Daddy and convinced him to marry me September 17th 2011. Share so many important details that get lost with time.

But first to share your first.

2004 - From Minnesota to Wisconsin.

I met Steve on an unplanned last minute trip to Fort Mccoy Wisconsin. A few girlfriends of mine were going down there to say goodbye to some soldiers they were friends with. I got to tag along.

The trip there was adventorous in itself, but not needed to be discussed. It was like any 18/19 year old escape from a home town with the girls. It was a road trip.

When we were nearing our destination to the Army Camp, we stopped in Tomah Wisconsin at a local Walmart. This is where I met him. He was a stranger in a sea of uniforms, and I thought the world of him with out knowing his name. He was handsome. Tall and lean.

The girls and I on our way out from the store, saw a bus loading a bunch of soldiers, and being like most red blooded crazy women, we parked next to it, and talked to the guys. Which resulted in us picking some of the random guys up from the base and hanging out with them that night. Mr Tall and Lean happened to be with. I wont go into too much detail, but that night I broke his nose on accident before I even knew his name. As he was holding that bloody towel full of ice, he looked up at me with sympathetic eyes, and I was in love. Within a matter of a month or 2, I was pregnant, and Married (May 2004).

Two days after our crazy court house wedding, he was over seas. I became a war bride, pregnant by a man I barely knew. He didnt come home for a year and a half. I got to be sole parent your whole 9 months in my womb. I got to be the sole parent for many months after as well.

Id be lying if I said it wasnt hell. I worried for you, I worried for your father who was overseas. I had very little contact with him. A pay phone in Afghanastan was ultimatly it. There would be times that I hadnt got a single call for days. The longest was 54. The news became my enemy. Always something terrible on the television about another soldier lost. Every soldier had Steve's face. I saw a little of him in every man who died over there. I was terrified that I would get the news that the man who bore my child would never get to see her face.

Then one day he was home. Me and him had our good times, followed with the ugly. He was a good man, but sometimes war has a funny way of changing a man. Im not to say that I wasnt at fault either. We both had our struggles. I had gotten so used to being the only parent I had a hard time letting go of the reins. He had a hard time of controlling his beer. Once upon a time he was a gentle soul, but at some point our relationship got physical and he hurt us both.

This is why he isnt in our lives anymore.

You became my reason to live, and before you were even a year, you became my reason to fight. The next few years were a blur, but the memories of some of the experiences shaped me. Memories best for another day, and another blog.

In a few days baby girl, you will be 7. This scares me. Scares me because someday years from now (even though the time goes so quick) I will be on my own. You have been my rock. I love you.

Who Me?

An Alanis Morrisette song would probably be the best way to describe me. Her song "Im a B*tch" puts it best. Ive never been good at explaining to the world who I am. There are too many Nouns & Adjectives that change daily to describe me. The best I can do to keep it simple is to tell you 2 things. Im a Mother and a Wife. Thats as simple as I can get. Those 2 words define me to the best of my knowledge and in those 2 words, lays a sea of possibilities.

Quotes

Jeremiah 29:11-13, For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." ~The Bible

"A hero is someone who sacrifices themselves on a daily basis. Some one who gives when they have nothing left to give. Someone who's just ordinary and average, but effect the lives of everyone around them all the time. A hero is someone who constantly keeps going even though they may fail, but never think of the consequence. They just live, and touch everyone's lives on the way." ~ Me :-)

"When people keep a record of all my wrongs in life, REMEMBER THIS.... GOD keeps records too" ~Author Unknown

"A man who says he can explain what it is to be in love, doesnt truly know what love is." ~ Author Unknown

"Real love is being with someone threw the good the bad and the ugly, just to fall in love all over again with the same person. The one person you can live with but couldnt live with out, no matter the situation life throws. I didnt know real love until I met you, and I would rather fight with you every day of my life, then live one day with out you." ~ Me :-)

Older Stuff

Odd people who find me interesting

When all is Done, I hope you walked away with this...

I suppose by now, your waiting for that big finale. Maybe you have been years ago. Maybe seeking that moral to the story. Except there isn't one. This is just our life according to my memories, and not alot of them, just a few. Some more foggy then others, some hard to chew, but I plowed on, forcing myself to remember them. For you. Ones full of smiles, others full of hurt.

Every day add's a new page to the book in my head, words and pictures not quiet finished being written. Maybe never being finished. Because once my legacy passes, The people I love and hold dear, will continue writting the pages, just from their own perspective.

With hope and determination, I'll have many years to keep adding the chapters. When one chapter ends, a new one begins.

I'd like to give you a happy ending. Except in life, is there truly one? We live, love, hurt, cry. Make memories, create regrets. Then we die. People morn. And all we have, is the hope that after life, we find that eternal happiness.

Maybe my advice is to take life as it is. Breath. Smile. Make light of the struggles (they only make you stronger to face new ones.) & love.

Love deeply. Love everything. Life is short in some people's eyes, but I think, its the longest thing we may have. So live & love deeply.

I love you Ayva. Always remember that. I climbed mountains for you. I will continue to climb every day, just for you, because you truly are my saving grace.

Your name says it all. Ayva (Ava, Eva) Giver of life. I chose that name little girl, because when you were born, my life truly began. You were the greatest gift, given to me by God and by choice. You open my eyes, and gave me true purpose & meaning. You gave me life.

I hope that in every trial you face, you can take from these, our memories and realize you already climbed mountains, and that you can climb any mountain. I will support you, hold you when you need it, push you when you need it, and listen when you need me.

And remember, the best things in life, you have to work the hardest for. Nothing great comes easily. There is no reward in easy. I think thats the lesson, I continuosly learn. And the most important, which I will never get tired of saying...